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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532303">Brown Skin and (Lime) over Ice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(harry's frat brothers call him lots of names that could be questionable), Alcohol, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Bondage, Dubious Consent, Fraternities &amp; Sororities, Gags, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rope Bondage, Slurs, Vacation, just enough plot for there to be porn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 06:49:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532303</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“What do we have here?” the man chides, putting his hands on his hips. He breathes deeply, in a way that should be demeaning but Harry finds incredibly hot.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“An alpha, I see,” the man says, his lips parted as he breathes again to get in all of Harry’s scent. “And all trussed up like a present. Is it my birthday?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He stalks around Harry, and Harry shivers. The man grins. He leans down and slowly takes the drink from Harry’s lap, and when he does Harry can clearly smell the sweaty omega scent rolling off of him. It’s delicious.</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>99</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous, Anonymous Unicorns</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Brown Skin and (Lime) over Ice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry always knew which fraternity he was going to join when he went off to college. He was a legacy, after all. Third generation to be a member! His dad was so proud of him when he pledged, too. It all felt very worth it at the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other guys in his frat, well, they weren’t his </span>
  <em>
    <span>best</span>
  </em>
  <span> friends or anything. But they were good enough. For an Alpha frat, no one was </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> domineering. A little dickish, maybe, but territorial fights were at a minimum in the house and very little of their budget had to go toward repairing the walls and furniture. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, not the </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst</span>
  </em>
  <span> alphas Harry’s ever met, but most of them did still consider him a bit of a weakling. The pussy of the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Which is a term Harry has </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> them to stop using, but he was apparently not particularly persuasive).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he endured the occasional mocking and jeers. It wasn’t a big deal. The frat offered him connections for later in life, and he had goals that he was not going to be dissuaded from. There were more important things in life than a sexist alpha mocking him for dressing a little more omega.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Also, their ideas of pranks were dumb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The beach house they’d rented for spring break was </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge.</span>
  </em>
  <span> In a gated community on a private beach, it had three floors with two kitchens and a dining room with a table that seats thirty. There was an old fashioned elevator and a sound room with DJ equipment. The pool and hot tub on the deck out back had a perfect view of the beach mere feet away, and during high tide the ocean practically came up to the fence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There had been drinking parties every night, which was </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine,</span>
  </em>
  <span> even </span>
  <em>
    <span>expected</span>
  </em>
  <span> for a fraternity on spring break. There had also been a lot of omegas in the house whom Harry had never met before, and was a little confused as to where they were coming from, but that was fine too. None of his business who his brothers bring home (even though they did almost all have omegas back at college). He was here for the sun and the surf and the chance to unwind for a bit before having to get back to studying for exams. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, the fact of the matter was, being surrounded by dickish alphas meant that </span>
  <em>
    <span>apparently</span>
  </em>
  <span> he couldn’t get </span>
  <em>
    <span>one moment</span>
  </em>
  <span> of peace. He wanted to go to sleep at a reasonable hour so he could photograph the sunrise on the beach in the morning, but clearly the idea that he would skip out on a night of partying was something his brothers took </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> personally, and made him look “like a pussy omega”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(That’s what they told him as they dragged him through the house).</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If you want to act like a pussy omega all the time,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> one of them had growled, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“We’re just going to complete the look for you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They had dragged him out of his bed, down the stairs and out of the house, onto the beach in the pitch black (what was it, midnight? Two in the morning?). Harry had given up on struggling pretty fast — he does work out, but there were six of them cheering one another on like they were at a football game or something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had wondered a bit about how long they’d been planning this when they brought out a beach chair — one of the wooden ones that folds out into an x-shape with a fabric hammock for the seat. He finds himself pushed down into it, and as soon as he’s sprawled somewhat into the chair several of them go about attacking his arms and legs with rope; tying his knees together, his ankles to the chair legs, his wrists behind him and his elbows to the wooden sides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Little Miss Styles,” one of them slurs (clearly having already consumed some of the Guinness). “Daintiest omega in the fraternity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry just stares up at the group of them looming over him. “What?” he asks eventually, as they clearly expect him to say something. “Not even taking blackmail pictures or something? No dress to make me wear? Not even a skirt? This is weak material, you guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of them growls at him. Harry isn’t even sure who all is here, what with how dark the beach is. No lights allowed on the beach because of possible turtle nests (not that his frat brothers would know that). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who even let a cunt like you into our frat?” one of them says, and another growls something Harry can’t make out about being an omega in need of a sorority.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still pretty unoriginal,” Harry says, trying to act bored. If they give up and leave there’s a decent chance he’ll be able to undo the ropes and get back to bed. Maybe lock his door this time (or at least wear something more than the black briefs he has on right now. That part of this isn’t great). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chair they pushed him into has him facing the ocean, and with all the commotion of the partying back at the house he doesn’t immediately notice that more brothers have approached, until a new voice says, “Brought a girly drink for the girly boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A glass (a </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> glass instead of a red solo cup — so that’ll go out of their deposit if it breaks) gets thrust into his lap, filled with something murky that looks like it might have cherries in it. It leans precariously full against his legs, and spills a little a moment later when another new face appears in front of him, a gruff voice telling him to “Open wide, pretty boy,” before a </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole lime</span>
  </em>
  <span> is shoved into his mouth. Harry’s jaw is immediately stretched so wide he feels like it might break (it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> an organic lime), and he immediately starts to feel drool pooling at the corners of his mouth. Gross.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are peals of laughter around him and then Harry finds himself blinded by flashes of light. Oh good, they did think to take blackmail pictures. Wonderful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to zone out a bit until they’ve all had their fun, although it feels like forever. His jaw aches and he has to keep still to keep the drink from sliding sideways and spilling all over his briefs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all leave, eventually, in one large pack like a group of hyenas off to devour something else. The sound of the waves eventually overtakes their laughter and Harry relaxes only a little. His arms are sore being tied behind him the way that they are, and his legs have to remain uncomfortably upright to keep the drink up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries with his tongue to push the lime out of his mouth but it’s wedged so tightly all that happens is more spit pooling out of the corners of his mouth, and his jaw aching. His wrists are tied too tightly for his fingers to reach any knots, and he worries if he struggles too much he’ll upend the drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While he really doesn’t want to wait for a brother to come back for him (or worse, for someone else on the beach to eventually find him), he’s quickly coming to the conclusion that he doesn’t have that much of a choice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least he wasn’t sleeping naked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes have adjusted somewhat to the darkness, and at least it’s a clear sky, so he can gaze at the stars as the crashing sound of the waves lulls him into a sort of trance. He has no idea what time it is or how long until someone finds him, but at least it looks like the tide is going out instead of in. That’s something to be thankful for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry isn’t exactly sure if he sleeps, or if he just sort of exists for a while. He’s aware when the noises of the house behind him quiet down, and he’s vaguely aware when the sky begins to brighten. The sun should rise in front of him, when it eventually does. At least he’ll be able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> the sunrise, even if he can’t photograph it properly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The upside of a private beach, and the reason they went for this house originally, was the chance to be as loud as they want all night without anyone nearby to complain. There were other houses along the shorefront, but they were much further down and promised privacy. They did technically share the beach, but not with many.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Harry’s a little surprised when he hears the rhythmic thud of what is clearly an early morning jogger making their way across the beach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s embarrassed to be out here like this, so in the hopes that maybe said jogger will think that he just came out here to nap among the stars, Harry tries not to move, not to look over at them. Unfortunately, the sky is light enough now that apparently his predicament is pretty clear. He hears the footsteps slowing from a jog to a walk as they get closer, and then suddenly there’s a man in his field of vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A very </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span> man, wearing Adidas workout gear, his sweaty hair long enough to be pulled back with a headband. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do we have here?” the man chides, putting his hands on his hips. He breathes deeply, in a way that should be demeaning but Harry finds incredibly hot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An alpha, I see,” the man says, his lips parted as he breathes again to get in all of Harry’s scent. “And all trussed up like a present. Is it my birthday?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stalks around Harry, and Harry shivers. The man grins. He leans down and slowly takes the drink from Harry’s lap, and when he does Harry can clearly smell the sweaty omega scent rolling off of him. It’s delicious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man inspects the drink. “Something fruity,” he says. “I drank the last of my water about a half mile back, I suppose this’ll do in the meantime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In one fluid movement, he swings one leg around and straddles Harry’s lap, leaning back against his legs and making himself comfortable, grinding against Harry’s crotch as he does. He takes a long, slow drink from the glass and Harry squirms a little, feeling comfortably trapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man drains the glass and tosses it into the sand. He looks down at Harry and smiles, slowly. “You’re a pretty one,” he says, and as he does so he starts to work his hips. “I think it would be a wasted opportunity if I didn’t keep you company for a bit, wouldn’t it?” He leans forward and splays his hands out across Harry’s pecs, using them as leverage to grind with more force.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry groans, wishing the man would at least take the lime out of his mouth because the more he works Harry up, the more Harry’s started to bite into the lime and can taste the tart juice starting to drip into his mouth. He squirms, trying to work some rope somewhere loose, but to no avail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man can clearly tell how much of an effect he’s having, because the grin on his face gets wider as Harry gets noticeably hard under him. Harry groans as the man uses his hands against Harry’s torso to lift himself up, but in one fluid move he leans down — face to face with Harry — and moves his hands down to the hem of Harry’s briefs, sweaty warm fingers digging in and making Harry squirm as he pulls them down his thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cock springs free and this is the point where Harry </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be terribly embarrassed — and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> — but he’s also that intense combination of turned on and close to rut, and all he can think of right now is this beautiful omega who is now pulling down his own pants just enough to expose himself and — oh god — dripping slick all down his legs and onto Harry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry whimpers, lifting his hips in the air in invitation. The man laughs at him, and takes his sweet time positioning himself as Harry can do </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> about it. He writhes in his bonds but is still completely at the mercy of this omega as he slowly and deliberately lowers himself onto Harry’s cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first time it’s just the tip, as he positioning his hands back on Harry’s chest. But It’s not too long until he’s setting a rhythm, fast and dirty and lowering himself all the way to the base of Harry’s dick, making Harry moan and clench his jaw and fill his mouth with the taste of lime. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You love this,” the omega groans. “You’re so — </span>
  <em>
    <span>god,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’re big. I really lucked out, thick </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>pretty? Who let you out here all on your own?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry whimpers, breathing fast and feeling himself nearing the edge. The man must have thighs of </span>
  <em>
    <span>steel</span>
  </em>
  <span> the way he’s able to just bounce like this, straddling Harry like a horse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels the way the man clenches around him, the way his hips stutter and his weight shifts onto his hands and then his forearms as he comes onto Harry’s chest, breathing heavily and scent filling the air around them. Harry can feel his knot start to swell as the man relaxes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then — </span>
  <em>
    <span>then</span>
  </em>
  <span> the man stands, Harry’s knot only momentarily catching at his entrance before the man jumps up and swings off of him. Harry whimpers, squirming desperately and pleading with pathetic whines as the man stands there and watches him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t get knotted on the first date, it’s impolite,” the man says, pulling up his pants, face flushed. Harry’s knot is fully formed but even humping the air gets him no traction, the way his body is tied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking closer, the man leans down and whispers into Harry’s ear, “But if I run to the other end of the beach and when I come back you’re still here, I’ll consider it the second date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He then leans down and bites at the junction between Harry’s neck and shoulder, breaking the skin just enough for a light omega bond. Just enough that Harry will be able to sense when he’s close, or getting close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hope I see you again, Alpha,” the man says, and then no matter what Harry tries to scream through his gag, all he can do is watch as the omega runs off, leaving Harry in the morning sun, having entirely missed the sunlight, with his knotted cock standing at attention and his briefs around his thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry can feel his rut arriving early, and he zeroes in on the omega bond, hoping that the man gets back soon before one of his brothers comes out and finds him like this. </span>
</p>
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